


The Dream

by RoosterDonkey



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:34:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22838662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoosterDonkey/pseuds/RoosterDonkey
Summary: Very short drabble about the first night of sleep Obi-Wan manages to get in his exile.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze
Kudos: 20





	The Dream

The first time he had the dream, it was the first night Obi-Wan could remember being qualified as a night’s rest since before that terrible day. The day the world shattered and night fell upon the galaxy. From shortly before his fateful departure to Utapau to his arrival on Tatooine, he had been going, going, going…

It would have killed any normal man. In honesty, it should have killed _him_.

It was the night following the day he left the infant Luke Skywalker in the care of his uncle Owen and aunt Beru. He had located an abandoned homestead a ways from the Lars’ own homestead. It was all he could do to place his meager collection of newly-acquired supplies at the foot of the long, flat stone that was supposed to hold a bed pad before he himself collapsed upon its cool, smooth surface and gave himself to sleep.

Whether the dream was just a result of the innumerable trials and traumas he had experienced, or something more, he couldn’t say.

His dream self felt the warmth upon which he lay, and that in itself alerted him. He also heard the crashing of waves upon a shore. He smelled the salty humidity.

_This certainly isn’t Tatooine._

His dreaming eyes opened to the lopsided view of an ocean, the waves he was hearing breaking and swelling up the sand before retreating again. He realized that while his body lay upon the sand, his head did not. His cheek rested upon someone’s folded legs. Something about this felt quite familiar…

“Do you remember?” the voice of Satine Kryze asked him.

He remembered now. He, Satine, and Master Qui-Gon Jinn had seen surprisingly many things during the year which they were supposed to be in hiding. This particular shore, where the three had taken a brief moment of respite in their immense ordeal, had been one of them.

But now, Obi-Wan remembered how Satine had died, as Qui-Gon had, his role in her death and the subsequent chaos into which Mandalore descended. Because he had loved. Funny, he had thought he had let go of those attachments.

But with the destruction of the Jedi and the loss of Anakin, every old wound in Obi-Wan’s heart became fresh.

Her voice came again, and a gentle hand traced his face.

“If I could go back and do it all again, I would. I have no regrets, my dear, and you should not either.”

Obi-Wan supposed it wasn’t especially Jedi-like to feel guilt over events that were larger than himself. That still didn’t make it incredibly difficult not to.

“But even Jedi need to grieve,” the voice said.

He watched the waves and let the emotions flow through him. Qui-Gon, Satine, the Clone Wars, Anakin, the Jedi. The loss, the hurt, the betrayal, the guilt, the despair. He imagined them being taken into the tide and dispersed into the vastness beyond.

_This could take a while._


End file.
